Chuck Versus Broken Dreams
by timewalker05
Summary: For Ethan. The story of Chuck and Sarah's first child. WARNING: Not a happy fic.


For Ethan

CHUCK VERSUS BROKEN DREAMS

Chuck Bartowski was happily snoozing on a lazy Sunday morning, oblivious to everything except the wonderful dream he was having in which his wife, Sarah, was feeding him Ben & Jerry's Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough Ice Cream while wearing Barbara Eden's costume from I Dream of Jeannie. She was just dipping the spoon in the carton when he was violently awakened by Sarah running from the bathroom and jumping onto the bed. "Look!" she cried. "Chuck, look!" She held some long, white plastic contraption up right under his nose.

"Huh? Wha?" Chuck muttered, still mostly asleep. Sarah shook the contraption under his nose again and he blinked a few times and then tried to look at whatever she was showing him. She held it so close, however, that his eyes went cross-eyed trying to look at it.

"Sarah," he whined. "What time is it?"

"Six a.m.," she squealed, bouncing on the bed like a kid on Christmas morning.

Chuck blinked again, yawned and tried to push Sarah's hand back a little from his nose. "Six a.m.?" he moaned. "It's Sunday. I get to sleep in on Sunday."

"But Chuck," Sarah cried. "_Look_!" She emphasized the last word by shaking the contraption at him once again.

Resigned now to the fact that she wasn't going to let him go back to sleep and that there was obviously something important about that long, white thing she kept shaking at him, he pushed himself into a sitting position and took hold of her hand so that he could move the offending device into a position from which he could actually see it.

Now he was more confused than ever. It was a white piece of plastic in the shape of a flattened cylinder with a little plastic window that had a blue plus in it. "Sarah, what is that?" he asked.

Sarah looked at him as if he had just asked whether the sun rises in the East. "Chuck," she cried, exasperated. "It's a home pregnancy test."

Chuck, who was unfortunately still not completely awake, blinked at her and asked, "A what?"

Sarah rolled her eyes. "Chuck. I'm pregnant!"

"Oh," Chuck said. "You're…" Just then, however, the message finally wormed its way into his sleep addled brain and he realized what she had just said. His half-closed eyes were suddenly as wide as saucers. "You're pregnant?!?!?"

Sarah, who had been kneeling on the bed hovering over Chuck, was not expecting that kind of response. She flopped back onto her butt and started to pout.

But then Chuck blinked away the confusion and the surprise and suddenly exclaimed, "Oh my God! We're pregnant!" He lunged forward and enveloped Sarah in a bear hug. "We're gonna have a baby!"

Sarah's pout faded instantly and was replaced by a wide grin. She had been nervous about how he was going to take the news. They had only been married for six months and although they had talked about having kids someday, they hadn't really decided to start a family quite yet. But they had been on an extended mission in Paraguay when she had run out of birth control pills and somehow never got around to getting the prescription refilled once they got back to the states.

But Chuck was clearly excited by the prospect. So excited she was afraid he was about to crack one or two of her ribs. "Chuck," she said, gasping for air.

Chuck instantly released her and a stricken expression flashed across his face. "Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God. I didn't hurt you, did I? Did I hurt the baby?"

Sarah smiled at him and took his hand. "I'm fine," she said. "I'm sure the baby is fine, too."

"How?" Chuck stammered. "How did this happen?" The question would have concerned her except that the silly grin was still plastered to his face.

"Well, I'm pretty sure it was one of the ten or twelve dozen times we've made love in the last few weeks," she said with a mischievous grin.

"I know that part," Chuck said. "I mean, I thought you, you know, were…"

"Well, I ran out of birth control pills while we were in Paraguay and I never got around to getting any more." She bit her bottom lip. "You're not upset are you? You're not mad?"

Chuck took her in his arms again, more gently this time. "Upset?" he asked. "How could I be upset? I'm going to be a daddy!"

***************************

The hard part came later when they had to tell their mutual partner, John Casey. "You're what?" he roared. "How the hell did this happen?"

"Well, you see, Casey," Chuck said in a mocking tone. "When a man and a woman love each other very much, the daddy…"

Casey looked at Chuck with narrowed eyes and growled. Chuck took an involuntary step behind Sarah.

"Hiding behind pregnant women now, Bartowski?" Casey scoffed. "How very brave of you."

Chuck, realizing that out of force of habit he had indeed just used his pregnant wife as a shield, got a chagrined look on his face and stepped in front of Sarah. Sarah laid a hand on his arm and smiled at him, then turned to Casey.

"It was going to happen eventually, Casey," she said. "It just happened a little sooner than we had planned."

Casey looked from Sarah, to Chuck, and back to Sarah. "You're telling Beckman," he said, then turned and walked out of the room.

"Wow," Chuck said. "He actually took that better than I thought."

********************************

"How did this happen?" Beckman asked. Chuck suppressed a grin. He was tempted to use the same line on Beckman that he used on Casey, but decided that wouldn't go over very well. At one time, Chuck had lived in deadly fear of General Diane Beckman. But that was before he came to realize just how important he was to the government. He leveraged that into a better cover job working at a small software start-up, a government pension, and the right to 'live my life as I want with who I want without interference from the government' so long as he agreed to assist the government.

It was Sarah who spoke up. "General, Chuck and I want to have children and we _are_ going to do this."

The General seemed to soften a bit once she was over the initial shock. In many ways, Team Bartowski had made her career. "I just hate to lose one of my best field agents."

"You're not losing me, Ma'am," Sarah said. "My doctor assures me that I can continue to work for several more months. Even when I'm no longer able to do active fieldwork, I'll be able to assist with surveillance from the van."

Casey snorted. "Stay in the car, Sarah," he muttered under this breath.

Sarah glanced over at Chuck who was staring at her. She tore herself away from his gaze to look back at Beckman. "As long as you don't expect me to come to the baby shower," Beckman groused, "I don't suppose there's much I can do about this."

"No, ma'am," Sarah assured her. "There's not."

They heard the General mutter something about mandatory Norplant for field agents as she cut the connection.

"Sarah," Chuck said. "You're not really going to continue to do field work, are you?"

Sarah put her hands on her hips. "And why not?" she asked. "It's my job and one I'm damn good at. I'm pregnant, not disabled."

"Better quit while you still have the ability to father more children," Casey said.

******************************

Chuck was sure that Ellie's scream shattered windows way over in Pomona. They were at the Awesome manse and Sarah and Chuck had just broken the big news to Ellie and Awesome. Ellie was so excited that Devon had to leap to grab the twins from Ellie before she jumped to her feet to hug Sarah. The twins, Abigail and Harrison (or Abby and Harry as Chuck called them, much to the chagrin of their mother), woke and started crying at the shrieks coming from their mother. Devon handed Harrison to Chuck who took the little bundle and started bouncing him to try and quiet his wails. Devon did the same for Abigail. Harrison quieted a few moments before Abigail and Devon smiled at Chuck. "You're a natural at this daddy biz, bro."

Ellie, now in dual big sister/mom mode, was talking to Sarah a mile a minute giving her advice and instructions on pre-natal care, the best diapers, nursing, and where to find the cutest maternity clothes, as well as starting to plan Baby Bartowski's nursery.

****************************

Telling Morgan was considerably less ear-shattering. While Sarah and Anna were in the kitchen making dinner, Chuck and Morgan sat on the back porch drinking beer.

"You're going to be an uncle, dude," Chuck said, slapping Morgan on the shoulder.

Morgan looked at Chuck and nodded. "_Awesome_," he said. "Bout time, too. The world needs more Bartowskis. With this gene pool, the kid will be predestined for greatness. Sarah's looks, you're brains… Not that there's anything wrong with your looks… Or Sarah's brains, of course, because as sweet as she is I think she just might kick my ass if she thought I was saying she wasn't smart, you know… So, can I really be his… or her… uncle? I mean, I know not biologically, but I think I would make an _outstanding_ uncle. And let's face it; uncle is one of the greatest jobs in the world…"

He was cut off by a shriek coming from the kitchen. "I guess Sarah told Anna," Chuck said.

************************************

Chuck decided that there were few things more dangerous than a hormonal super-agent. Sarah was warm and loving one minute and a hair's breadth away from shattering each and every bone in his body the next. Fortunately today, or at least, right this moment, her wrath was directed at her long-time partner John Casey.

"Where does he get off, treating me like a porcelain doll?" she asked. "I had the situation well in hand. The idiot," Chuck assumed she meant the suspect, not Casey, "couldn't lay a hand on me and I was just about to take him out and Casey pushes me out of the way. _Pushes me out of the way_! It's not like I couldn't kick his ass, anyway."

"Sarah, honey, Casey just worries about you, the same as I do. We don't want anything to happen to you or the baby."

Sarah glared at him. "Oh, not you, too. You know, it's still my job to protect you, not the other way around. Just because I'm having your baby…"

Chuck followed his tried and true method of ending Sarah's rant. He grabbed her and pressed his mouth to hers. She struggled for a moment and then melted into his kiss. When they finally came up for air, Sarah looked up at him. "I'm still going to kick yours and Casey's asses," she said.

"I have no doubt about that, honey," Chuck said. "Have I told you how beautiful you look today, by the way? And how much I love you? And how terrible it would be for our child to grow up without its father or Uncle Johnnie?"

Sarah smiled and kissed Chuck's nose. "Just so long as you know I still have the option," she said.

*********************************

"It looks like a blob to me," Chuck said. "Or maybe a peanut."

Sarah gave him an exasperated look. "That's our child you're talking about, mister."

"Well, our child looks like a peanut. The world's most precious peanut, to be sure, but still a peanut."

The nurse moved the wand a little to the left. "There's the hand," she said. "You can just make out the fingers."

"A peanut with fingers," Chuck said.

Sarah gave him a dirty look. "You can't see the legs and the arms?" she asked. "Thery're plain as day."

Chuck shrugged. "I… Oh yeah. I see. Wow. That's amazing." It actually still looked to him like a peanut but Sarah's smile was worth the little white lie. He knew he shouldn't but he couldn't resist adding. "A peanut with arms and legs."

Sarah rolled her eyes.

Thus was Baby Bartowski christened 'Peanut.'

***********************************

They were lying on the couch with Sarah's head resting on Chuck's chest. The fingers of his left hand were twirling around in her hair while his right rested on the little bulge protruding from her stomach. Some movie was playing on the television, but neither one was really paying attention to it.

Chuck gave a sigh of contentment. "What do you think about Erin for a girl?" she asked.

"Hmm?" Chuck asked.

"I like the name Erin. What do you think?"

"Why can't we call it Peanut?" he asked.

Sarah slapped him playfully on the arm. "I'm trying to be serious, here," she said.

"I was thinking Jennifer, for a girl," he said. "After her mother."

"I hate the name Jennifer," Sarah said. "It holds some bad memories. What about Eleanor, after your sister?"

"No," Chuck said. "I love Ellie, but I don't want to saddle our kid with the name Eleanor. Everyone immediately thinks of Eleanor Roosevelt. How about Luke for a boy?"

"As in Skywalker?" Sarah laughed. "I guess that's better than Obi-Wan or Anakin."

"Not Anakin," Chuck said. "I don't want him to grow up to have asthma and wear a black helmet. But Obi-Wan…"

"Will you be serious?" Sarah asked. "What about Stephen, after your father?"

"Mmm, maybe," Chuck said. "What about Megan for a girl?"

Chuck felt Sarah shudder. "No. No way. There was a girl on the cheerleading team named Megan. She used to torture me every day in English class. What about Deidre?"

"Deidre?" Chuck asked. "Where did that come from?"

"I don't know. I just thought it was a pretty name."

"I know," Chuck said. "We'll each write down our top five girl's names and boy's names and then compare lists."

"Very logical, Mr. Bartowski."

"Why thank you, Mrs. Bartowski," Chuck said, kissing the top of her head. "I'm just trying to keep from getting my ass kicked if I suggest the wrong name."

Sarah snuggled deeper into his chest. "That's still a possibility," she said.

*********************************

Chuck was working on a particularly troublesome bit of code at his cover job. He was getting nowhere, so he stopped, stood, and stretched and then grabbed his old Buy More coffee cup and headed to the break room. Unfortunately, whoever had taken the last cup had failed to make a fresh pot, so he dropped his dirty cup in the sink and got out the coffee and a filter and started the next pot brewing.

While he waited, he ambled out the door to the courtyard. It was late spring and the flower beds were a riot of pinks and yellows and reds and the trees were covered with tiny white flowers.

Chuck sat down on one of the benches and breathed in the riotous scent of dozens of different blooms mingled together. Then he sneezed.

As they so often did these days, his thoughts turned to 'Peanut', the tiny life growing in his wife's womb. And he was scared.

He was scared of what a baby would do to his and Sarah's relationship. He loved her so much and cherished every moment that he spent with her. Would a baby change that? Would it get in the way? He saw so many young fathers with bags under their eyes and spit up on their shirts and they looked like something out of Night of the Living Dead. They complained about no sleep and they complained especially about no sex.

He loved Sarah so much, could he share her with a baby? Once the baby came along, would she have any time for him? It was already so hard between the cover jobs and the missions to have any time alone. And adding a baby to the mix?

He was scared about what kind of father he would be. After all, he didn't have the greatest role models. A mother who had abandoned him and a father who had been distant even when he was there, only to run away from his responsibilities as well, leaving he and Ellie to fend for themselves. For that matter, what kind of role models did Sarah have? A mother who died when she was young and a father who used her to pull his cons. How on earth could he and Sarah ever have thought they could be good parents?

They were spies, for goodness sakes. What business did a couple spies have trying to raise a kid?

Maybe, he thought, it would have been better if Sarah hadn't gotten pregnant.

But then he had a vision of Sarah with a child at her breast, her face glowing as she looked at her child, at their child. He thought of the joy on Ellie's face as cuddled the twins to her breast or the booming laughter of Devon as he bounced the twins on his knees.

Once you got past that hardened agency façade, Sarah was such a wonderful, loving person. She deserved to have children to love and to care for.

And him? He made a silent vow not to make the mistakes his own father had made. He would be there for his own children. He would be the best damn father he could be.

"Bartowski!" Casey's voice barked from the doorway leading back into the break room. "There you are. Briefing in ten."

Chuck sighed and went back inside, only to find that while he had been musing in the courtyard, everyone else had come in and drained the coffee pot. With a sigh, he started to make another fresh pot.

*********************************

Sarah chewed on the end of her pencil as she looked over the spreadsheet. At least her latest cover job didn't involve serving food. Instead, she actually got to use her finance degree from Harvard to some extent, managing the business aspects of the software startup where Chuck worked. It turned out she was quite good at it, smooth talking the bankers and venture capitalists that were funding the business. At least she was comfortable in her cover job. Casey was acting as the office manager and H.R. director.

Some days she could almost imagine doing this for a living. But no. Part of her was addicted to the danger and excitement of life as a spy. It was always so. Even when she was younger, travelling around the country with her father pulling cons, part of her had hated the constant travelling while another part of her had reveled in the thrill of it all.

Her father. He was going to be a grandfather and she didn't even know where he was or how to contact him and tell him. Not that it would matter. Jack Burton, as she had last called him, thought of no one but himself.

She pulled out the pencil and looked at the teeth marks and sighed. Jack Burton. With a father like that, what made her think she had any business trying to be a parent? She didn't know the first thing about being a parent, about taking care of a child. What kind of mother would she be? Chuck, of course, would be a wonderful if somewhat indulgent father. But her? A mother?

She shivered from a sudden chill and got up to turn down the air conditioner yet again. She always seemed to be too hot or too cold lately.

Chuck. They had had so little time together since they had started to pursue a real relationship. So much time pretending to be a couple and so little time learning how to actually be a couple. Especially her. She had been in so few relationships that she was still learning how – and now they were going to add a baby to the mix? Shear madness.

And yet. Her hand drifted unconsciously down and settled on her stomach, where the tiny bulge proclaimed the life that was inside her. Her child. Chuck's child. A tangible reminder of the love they shared. They said love conquered all. Certainly it had conquered a host of obstacles keeping them apart. Couldn't it overcome any obstacles to their child's happiness? Or was that just wishful thinking – that infernal Bartowski optimism that had turned the head and won the heart of this hardened spy?

She looked down and put her other hand on her stomach as well. Chuck's baby. A living, breathing part of the man she loved. How could she not love it? Love Peanut, as Chuck called the little person growing within her womb.

"I love you," she whispered, know that somehow the baby heard her.

********************************

"Walker!" Casey yelled; relapsing, as he often did in moments of stress, to the name he had called her for most of their time as partners. "Stay here! Chuck and I can handle this."

He pulled his gun and ran down the alley after the arms dealer who had just taken a shot at them.

"Casey's right, stay here," Chuck said. He gave her a hurried peck on the cheek and then followed after Casey.

"I'll be damned if I'm going to wait in the car," Sarah muttered as she pulled the glock out of the waistband of her maternity jeans and followed after Chuck and Casey. Her condition slowed her, however, and Chuck and Casey pulled away from her and out of sight around the corner of the warehouse while she huffed after them.

She was still an agent, however, and despite her 'delicate condition' as Casey liked to call it, she still had all her training and experience. She slowed to a stop as she reached the corner and cautiously peered around it, only to see Chuck rounding the corner of the next warehouse. She swore under her breath and started forward again.

She heard a shot and stopped to flatten herself against the wall. 'Chuck! Casey!' she cried silently as images of her husband or her partner bleeding from a gunshot wound filled her mind. Still, she cautiously approached the corner and peered around it.

Casey was down, clutching his leg, while Chuck knelt beside him. The arms dealer stood over them, a gun pointed at Chuck's head. They were no more than ten yards away. She brought her gun up and clasped it with both hands, sighting down the barrel as her finger tightened on the trigger.

Suddenly, a voice behind her hissed, "Hands up, sister." She felt the cold metal of a pistol barrel press against her ribs. She slowly started to raise her hands, then spun rapidly and kicked at her assailant. His gun went sailing but he recovered and knocked the gun from her hand. Now both unarmed, they warily they circled each other. "You know," the assailant hissed, "Normally I don't hit women, but in your case I'll make an exception." He lunged at her. She swept his leg, but her balance was slightly off from her changed center of gravity and her foot impacted his calf, sending him slightly off balance but not taking him down. She heard shouts and a shot behind her, but she was too busy to worry about what was happening to Chuck and Casey.

Her attacker recovered quickly and slammed a fist into her ribs and another into her stomach. She double over, as much to protect her unborn child as from the blow.

"Freeze, damn you," she heard a voice call from behind her. The attack stopped and she was surprised to see that it had been Chuck's voice, so cold and authoritative had the voice been. He was holding a gun pointed at her attacker's head and his face was a mask of fury. "On the ground!" he barked.

Sarah stared at him, wide-eyed. Chuck had always hated guns. Had handled them as if they were somehow going to jump out of his hands and attack him. But his knuckles were white from where he gripped the pistol and the gun waivered not a millimeter as it pointed at the man's head.

The man, not missing the menace in Chuck's voice and manner, quickly dropped to the ground. For an instant, Sarah was afraid that Chuck was going to shoot him anyway, so cold was the fury in Chuck's eyes. But that fury quickly ebbed away and he ran to her side, his voice now full of concern. "Are you okay?" he asked. "Did he hurt you?"

"I'm fine," Sarah moaned, her tone putting the lie her words. Chuck laid an arm around her shoulder while the other held the gun rock-stead, pointed at the other man's head. Sarah hazarded a glance over at Casey, who was favoring one leg but was standing over the arms dealer, a gun pointed at his head as well.

********************************

"How's Casey?" Sarah asked. She was lying in a hospital bed while they waited for the doctor to come check her out to make sure that the baby hadn't been harmed by the punch to her abdomen.

Chuck, his face a mask of concern, said, "He's going to be fine. Just a flesh wound. He's blaming the whole thing on me, of course."

He gripped her hand and tried to smile, but the smile didn't reach his worried eyes.

"Mrs. Bartowski, Mr. Bartowski," the doctor said as he stepped into the room. "I understand that you took a blow to the stomach?" He directed the question, of course, to Sarah.

Sarah nodded. "I tripped and fell and a post hit me in the stomach. Is the baby going to be all right?" she asked.

"Let's take a look, shall we?" The doctor lifted her gown to look at her stomach. He palpated her abdomen and said," Everything good so far. Let's take a look with the sonogram, shall we?"

Sarah gripped Chuck's hand tighter as the doctor slathered the cold gel on her stomach and turned on the machine. He put the wand on her stomach and looked at the screen. Sarah held her breath.

"That's a fine looking boy you have there," the doctor said.

"A boy?" Chuck gasped. "You can tell it's a boy?"

"Oops," the doctor said. "I guess I should have asked. Some people don't want to know."

Chuck looked down at Sarah, his concern giving way to wonder. "We're going to have a boy!" he said. Sarah looked up at him with tears in her eyes and no words would come. She simply nodded.

The doctor set down the sonogram wand and picked up the fetal heart monitor. The rapid sound of the baby's heartbeat filled the room.

"Nothing to worry about," the doctor said. "He's looking and sounding good and strong. But I want you to be more careful in the future, young lady," he admonished Sarah.

"Oh, she will," Chuck said quickly. "Believe me, she will."

********************************

"I can't believe I've been benched," Sarah groused after the briefing with General Beckman.

"Look, honey," Chuck said, "as long as Casey is recovering, it's not like your missing anything. Team Bartowski is going to take a much needed break for awhile while Casey gets better and while you take care of Peanut."

Sarah couldn't help but smile at her husband. "You know," she said. "Now that we know it's a boy, we should settle on a name and stop calling him 'Peanut.'"

"I thought was had settled on Stephen John, after our fathers?" John a/k/a Jack, was not her father's real name, of course, any more than Sarah or Jennifer was her real name. But it was the name by which he was currently known.

"I changed my mind," Sarah said. "I think we should name him Charles, after his father."

"Now when we met, you told me that you didn't think anyone still named their kids 'Chuck.'"

"Well, I have come to realize that it is a good and honorable name, and our son should be proud to be named after a true hero."

"But I hate to have a kid known as 'junior.'" Chuck said with a grimace.

"Then we'll name him Charles John, after two heroes, you and Casey."

"You realize that will make Casey unsufferably proud of himself, don't you?" Chuck asked.

Sarah kissed him. "I think I'm willing to risk it."

*********************************

Sarah took a quick breath as she sat up in bed. A sharp pain stabbed at her gut and she grimaced and grabbed her stomach. She let out a short gasp and Chuck was suddenly awake.

"Sarah? What's wrong?"

"I don't know," she gasped.

"The baby?" Chuck asked nervously.

Sarah grimaced and nodded. "Chuck, you better get me to the hospital."

"But it's too soon," Chuck said plaintively. "You're only five months along."

"Chuck!" Sarah said sharply.

Chuck jumped out of bed and pulled on his jeans and a t-shirt and then pulled on his ubiquitous high-tops without even bothering to put on socks. Sarah eased herself out of bed and Chuck rushed over to help her pull on her maternity sweats and then knelt at her feet to pull on her shoes. He grabbed her purse for her and his keys and helped her out to the garage.

"I think you better drive," she said, trying to calm her panicked husband with a little attempt at humor. Chuck just gave her a worried look, however, as she grimaced with another contraction.

Chuck gripped Sarah's hand with one hand while he white-knuckled the steering wheel with the other. "Hang on," he said, "We're almost there."

He screeched to a halt in front of the emergency room entrance. Two attendants came rushing out to the car. "It's my wife," Chuck said. "She's in labor, but it's too soon."

One of the attendants grabbed a wheelchair and held it while Chuck helped Sarah from the car. "It's going to be all right. It's going to be all right," he kept repeating like a mantra. Once Sarah was seated, the attendant rolled her inside.

"Sir. Sir!" the woman at the admittance desk called to Chuck as he staggered past her. "I need to get some information from you. Are you her husband?"

Chuck nodded dumbly. The woman looked at him sympathetically and then recognition dawned on her. "Oh my God, you're Doctor Ellie Woodcomb's brother, aren't you?"

Chuck blinked at her as if he didn't understand the question, but then nodded dumbly. She came out from behind the desk and took him by the arm. "Come on," she said. "I'll take you back to see… Sarah isn't it?" Chuck nodded dumbly again.

She led Chuck to one of the examination rooms where Sarah was already lying in a bed. Chuck blinked and then glanced around when he realized she was alone. He jerked his head toward the admittance clerk. "Where's the doctor?" he demanded. "Where's the nurse? My wife needs immediate attention."

"Someone will be with her in a moment," the clerk said, patting Chuck's arm.

"Now, dammit!" Chuck roared.

"Chuck!" Sarah said sharply. "Leave the poor woman alone. She's doing her job. Someone will be along to see me in a bit. I'm sure they have other people to look after."

The admittance clerk looked from Chuck to Sarah. Sarah gave her a small nod and the woman hurried from the room. Chuck rushed to Sarah's side and took her hand. "Are you all right?" he asked. "Any more pains?"

"Not at the moment," Sarah said. "Maybe it was just false… ooooh." Chuck felt her hand tense on his as she experienced another contraction.

"It's going to be all right," Chuck said, lapsing back into his mantra.

A few moments later, a young woman in scrubs came in. "Mrs. Bartowski? I'm Jane Carson. What seems to be the problem?"

Chuck tensed and started to answer, but Sarah gripped his arm. She could tell he was about to snap at this woman, too.

"I think I'm going into labor," Sarah said.

The nurse, Jane, frowned. "How far along are you?" she asked.

"About twenty-two, twenty-three weeks," Sarah replied.

"Well, let's take a look at you," Jane said.

A half hour later, Sarah was transferred to Labor and Delivery. The place was bustling with woman about to give birth. Sarah prayed she wasn't one of them. It was just too soon.

The door to her room swung open and Ellie Woodcomb burst in the room. "They called me from downstairs," she said, the concern evident in her voice.

"She's having premature labor," Chuck said. "But it's too soon. Too soon."

Sarah glanced over at the I.V. in her arm. "They have me on something called nifedipine to try to stop the contractions," Sarah said.

Ellie nodded. "That's a calcium channel blocker. It's the best one for the baby, but you may experience some dizziness or nausea. Maybe some headaches. Oh, Sarah, I'm so sorry." She leaned over the bed to give Sarah a hug and then gave Chuck's arm a squeeze. "Devon would have come, but he's watching the twins," she said. "He'll come by once the nanny gets there."

The door to the room opened and John Casey stormed into the room. "What the hell's going on?" he boomed. "I had to find out when…" He stopped when he saw Ellie standing by the bed and stammered. "When… ah… they called me to verify insurance."

Ellie looked confused. "They called you to verify insurance at this hour?"

"Well, ah," Casey stammered, "some damn snafu by the insurance company. I got it all straightened out. What's the matter? Why are you in here?"

"Sarah's having contractions," Chuck explained. "Premature labor."

Casey looked stricken. "Are you going to be all right? How's the baby?"

"They've given her something to try and stop the contractions," Chuck said. "But we have to wait and see."

********************************

Ellie sat in the Labor and Delivery waiting room, her head resting on Devon's shoulder. Casey sat in a chair across from her, wringing his hands. In the four years since she had known him, Sarah had never seen Casey act so nervous. Next to Casey, Anna sat with Morgan curled up on the couch next to her, his head resting in her lap while Anna absent-mindedly ran her fingers through Morgan's hair.

The door opened and all five looked up. Chuck was standing in the doorway, a haggard look on his despairing face. Ellie jumped to her feet and ran to her brother. "What is it, Chuck? Is Sarah okay?"

Chuck bit his trembling lower lip and looked down at Ellie, his eyes brimming with tears. "It's not working, El. They can't stop the contractions. Sarah has some kind of staph infection and they think that's what's caused the labor. They're afraid the baby might be infected, too."

Ellie grabbed Chuck and held him. She felt Chuck convulse as sobs wracked his body. "They're afraid they can't stop the labor. We… we have to decide…" He swallowed a sob. "If he's born now, the odds are he won't survive and, even if he does, he'll probably have severe disabilities." He took a ragged breath. "Oh, Ellie, they want us to decide whether to try to keep him alive or not when he's born. How can we decide something like that? It's our _baby_!"

He started crying again and now Devon stood to put his hand on Chuck's shoulder while Ellie held him tight. Casey jumped to his feet and stormed across the room and slammed his hand against the door, throwing it open with a bang before stomping out of the room.

Morgan sat up and looked at Chuck with tears streaming down his face, while Anna gripped his arm so hard her long fingernails drew a trickle of blood that Morgan didn't seem to notice.

Chuck pulled away from Ellie. "I have to get back to Sarah," he said. "I… I just had to tell you." He turned and hurried out of the room. Ellie turned to Devon and buried her face in his chest as her tears soaked into his shirt.

*******************************

The doctor had been kind and compassionate as he explained their options again. The medication wasn't working. Sarah's contractions were continuing and there was nothing else they could do to stop the labor. The odds were that the staph infection, which had probably caused the labor, had infected the baby. The chances of survival of a baby this premature were less than sixteen percent, and the odds of serious disability were greater than sixty percent if he did survive. And that was without any infection. If they choose, the hospital would do everything they could to keep the child alive, but he would he in constant pain from needles and breathing tubes. At that stage of development, a baby's lungs were simply not developed enough. But the decision was theirs. They had to decide whether to try heroic measures to keep the baby alive, or let him die in peace.

Chuck held Sarah's hand while she looked up at him, her face wet with tears. "I'm trying," she wailed. "I'm trying to hold him in. I'm so sorry, Chuck. I'm not strong enough. I can't hold him in."

Chuck was crying now, too, as he stroked Sarah's hair. "Shhh. It's not your fault. It's not your fault. He's just ready, that's all. He wants to see his mom."

"But it's too early. Oh, God, Chuck, it's too early. What are we going to do?"

Chuck reached up to wipe the tears from his cheeks. "He's been a good little soldier," Chuck said. "It's like Casey says: A good soldier deserves to die with dignity."

"Can we do that?" Sarah asked. "If he's a fighter like his Dad, maybe he can beat the odds. Maybe…"

Chuck kissed her forehead. "I want him to live so badly," he said. "But we have to ask, what is best for him? If we try to keep him alive, is it for him or for us? God, Sarah, I don't know. I… I don't want to have to choose. I'm terrified of making the wrong choice."

"Me too," Sarah whispered. "Me too."

Chuck went and got Ellie and Devon and they discussed the choice with them, then talked it over with the hospital chaplain.

A little while later, Sarah's contractions grew closer together. The doctor came in and laid a sympathetic hand on Chuck's shoulder. "Mr. Bartowski. I'm afraid it's time. We need a decision."

Chuck looked at Sarah. Tears streamed down his cheeks and the words simply wouldn't come. Sarah reached up and gently caressed Chuck's cheek. "Our little Chuck has been a good little soldier," she said. "He deserves to die with dignity."

"If it's any consolation," the doctor said, "and I know it probably isn't, I think you made the right choice."

They stopped the anti-contraction medicine and allowed Sarah's labor to progress. As they did in all such cases, they simply performed the delivery in Sarah's room. Chuck stayed by her side the whole time, holding her hand, wiping the perspiration from her forehead, speaking soft and soothing words to her.

"Here he comes," he doctor finally said. "Push, Sarah."

Charles John Bartowski was born at 10:14 a.m. on June 13. They wrapped him in a blanket and laid him in Sarah's arms while Chuck wrapped his arms around his wife. He was the tiniest baby Chuck had ever seen, but he was a real person, with ten fingers and ten toes and a perfect little red face. He labored to breath, his breath coming in short little gasps and his heart racing. Slowly, inexorably, he gave up the struggle. "Shhh," Sarah cooed through the tears... "It's okay. Mommy and Daddy are here. We love you so much and it's okay to go on and wait for us in heaven."

Sobbing, Chuck held his wife as she cradled their infant son. Finally, the doctor turned to the nurse and whispered, "Time of death, 10:18 a.m." They silent left the room to allow Chuck and Sarah to grieve in peace.

********************************

It was a beautiful summer day. A light breeze blew across the cemetery, carrying the faint hint of flowers and new cut grass. In the distance, the sound of traffic hummed as, for the other thousands and thousands of people in Los Angeles, life went on. 'It should be raining,' Chuck thought. 'Funerals should have rain. What right does it have to be such a beautiful day when I am burying my son? It should be raining.'

Chuck stood by the graveside, Sarah on his right and Ellie on his left. Devon held Ellie's hand. Morgan stood beside Ellie and Anna clung fiercely to Morgan's arm. John Casey stood behind Chuck and Sarah, his face an unreadable mask. But his fists were clenched so tightly that his knuckles were white.

The coffin was the tiniest that Chuck had ever seen. Its white surface was covered with gardenias. Both Chuck's and Sarah's eyes were dry. Both silently wondered if they could possibly cry again or if they had used up their lifetime's supply of tears.

Chuck stared at the coffin and at the dark hole in the ground into which it would soon be lowered. The minister was saying something, but Chuck wasn't listening. Sarah had a tight grip on his hand, but he barely felt it. Paradoxically, he wasn't feeling grief. He was feeling guilt. This was all his fault. This was a punishment for something he had done. He hadn't loved the baby enough. He had doubted. He had imagined that life would be easier without a child and this was the result. The child he hadn't wanted enough had been taken away from him. This was his punishment. His hell. How could he face Sarah, his wife, after all this? How could he admit their child was dead because of his faults, his failings?

The minister finished and came over to shake Chuck's hand and then grip Sarah's hand in a show of condolence. He nodded at Ellie and she and Devon took Chuck and Sarah slowly away from the graveside. Sarah kept glancing back over her shoulder as they led them to Casey's big, black suburban.

Casey hung back at the grave for a moment, looking at the coffin. He reached up and took the little American flag pin off his lapel and laid it on the coffin. "A good little soldier should have a flag," he said quietly and then turned to follow Chuck and Sarah to the car.

********************************

The boom of thunder startled Sarah awake. Her heart was pounding in her chest but she couldn't say whether it was from the thunder or some nightmare. She reached over to Chuck's side of the bed, but it was empty. She got up and pulled on her robe and went downstairs. All the lights were off, but in the glare of a flash of lightning she saw Chuck's outline on the couch, looking out the front window. The rumble of thunder temporarily drowned out the sound of the rain spattering against the window.

Sarah sat down on the couch beside Chuck and looked over at him. His eyes were wet with tears. She slipped an arm behind his back and rested her head on his shoulder.

"It's stupid, you know?" he said, sniffing back his runny nose. "I woke up and it was raining and all I could think about was poor little Charles out there in the rain. All alone in the rain. And I wanted to go to him and cover him up. I mean, how stupid is that? How stupid am I?"

Sarah pulled him around to face her and hugged him to her breast. "He's so tiny and he's out there in the storm and I…" His words faded into soft sobs.

"Shhh, it's all right," Sarah cooed. But now she couldn't get the image out of her mind of the rain splattering the mud of their child's grave.

************************************

A week later, Chuck came home from work to find Sarah sitting on the couch. He had thrown himself into his work after the funeral. Sarah had stayed home for a little while longer at the doctor's suggestion.

There was a box on the coffee table in front of her and a brown envelope sitting on her lap. She didn't even seem to hear him come in. Chuck hurried to the couch and sat down beside her. "Sarah, what is it?" he asked, taking her hand.

Sarah handed him a piece of paper. Chuck held it up with trembling hands. It was a birth certificate for Charles John Bartowski. Chuck glanced from the paper to the box. In the box were a little receiving blanket that Ellie had given them, a tiny t-shirt that said 'Future Videogame King' from Morgan, a little brown teddy bear from Casey, a printout of a sonogram picture and a DVD of their various sonograms, along with a few other odds and ends of Peanut's short life.

Sarah looked up at Chuck with red-rimmed eyes. "It's my fault," she whispered so softly that Chuck almost couldn't hear it.

Chuck took her by the shoulders and looked at her. "What? No, Sarah. Why would you say that?"

"I couldn't keep him," she sniffed. "I tried but I couldn't keep him."

"It's not your fault, Sarah."

"I shouldn't have gone on that last mission. That's what did it, I'm sure. When I got hit in the stomach. It's my fault. You and Casey told me to stay in the car, but I didn't listen. And now our baby is dead and it's all my fault." She grabbed a hold of Chuck and cried into his shirt. "Do you hate me?" she sniffed. "I understand if you hate me."

"Oh, God, Sarah. I could never hate you. It's not your fault. If it's anyone's fault it's mine. I… I wasn't supportive enough. I didn't want it enough… want him enough. I… It's not your fault. Please, please Sarah. Don't blame yourself. You were a perfect mother. You did everything you could."

"But it wasn't enough," Sarah sobbed. "I just couldn't keep him in."

*********************************

Three Years Later

June 13th. They came often, but they made a special point to come on June 13th, his birthday. Chuck knelt by the side of the grave and brushed the dirt off of the bronze marker which had an image of an angel and the words: "Charles John Bartowski, Beloved Son." Unlike most of the other markers in this, the children's section of the cemetery, this one had only a single date, the date of both his birth and death. Chuck pulled out the grass that was threatening to encroach on the marker and brushed aside a little more of the dirt that it left behind.

Sarah, her waistline swelled with another life growing within her, held the hand of Lisa, their two year old daughter. Lisa looked up at Sarah. "Brother," she said happily. Lisa was entranced by the flowers and stuffed animals that adorned many of the graves around Baby Charles. "Yes," Sarah said, "Your brother who lives up in heaven." Sarah knelt by the grave, kissed her fingers and touched the warm bronze of the marker. "Sleep well, my love," she whispered. Chuck had to help her to her feet. She looked down at the marker and tears filled her eyes. Even after three years, there was a hole in her heart left by the tiny child.

Chuck stood and brushed the dirt and grass from his knees and picked up Lisa. He carried her to the car while she waived back at the grave. "Bye bye brother," she said.

The Bartowski minivan pulled away and, after a respectful lapse, an old, dark blue Crown Victoria pulled up to the grave site. John Casey, dressed in a black suit and dark tie, got out and walked over to stand in front of the grave. There was no one near so he didn't bother to hide the tears that welled up in his eyes. He snapped to attention and threw a perfect salute to his adopted nephew and namesake. Then he wiped the tears away, climbed back in his car, and resumed following the rest of the Bartowski clan.

****************************************

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**Author's Note**:

Please visit www[dot]marchofdimes[dot]com for information on premature births and how you can help.

**Recommended Reading**:

_Motherhood and Mourning_ by Ronald J. Knapp

_The Book of Job_ (New American Bible)

_A Grief Observed_ by C.S. Lewis

_The Problem of Pain_ by C. S. Lewis


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